Twin Tails
by waffleirons
Summary: Rin is kidnapped, Yukio's working himself too hard. Satan has a plan that doesn't make sense, and Mephisto's just an asshole. Yukio/Rin takes place directly after the anime
1. Chapter 1

If there's any troubling discrepancies between this story and the actual story line, please bring it to my attention so I can fix it.

Chapter 1

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It had been only two days since we'd destroyed the gate, thwarted our so called _grandfather's_ plans to destroy Gehenna, and saved this side of reality. Two days since my brilliance had nearly gotten Rin _sacrificed _to death, I'd been possessed by the king of demons, and True Cross Academy had been half demolished.

It had only taken two days for emergency contingency plans to be put into action. The school was quickly being rebuilt, overseen by newly-reinstated Paladin. The Grigori were back in power, supposedly making sure whoever was responsible for the catastrophe was punished. But then, how could they, when most of those involved were burned to death by my own demonic flames?

It had only taken two days for everything to begin resembling a state of normalcy.

It had only taken two days for everything to spiral completely and irreversibly out of control. _Again._

If only Dad were there…

He would know what to do. He would know how to fix it.

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It was the day of the first exorcist cram class since the _incident_. The halls that generally housed the classes were miraculously mostly intact and suitable for exorcist usage. All the normal students had been sent home with the exception of if they had received mashous from the attacking demons. A fairly sizable number of new students had been enrolled in the cram school as a result.

The new students hadn't been given very much information–any, really–about what, exactly, they would be learning about in this special cram school, but I doubt anything could have truly prepared them. The lifestyle of an exorcist wasn't something to be desired unless absolutely necessary. Half of the new recruits would drop out by the end of the week, if not after the first day, being thoroughly traumatized by the sight of Rin.

My own features had changed to match his, with these pointy elf-like ears and sharpened canines. My tail is hidden by my long exorcist coat–Rin is right, it is more comfortable, if considerably more dangerous, to keep it out rather than confined around my midsection–and even though my facial features were enough to alert anyone with half a brain that I wasn't quite _normal_, I was high enough up on the Exorcist food chain that most wouldn't dream of questioning my appearance.

Rin on the other hand…well. Three new kids ran out of the classroom as soon as they saw him, and another tried to stab him with a sharpened pencil. I thanked whatever benevolent deity that didn't condemn my existence that Rin had somehow matured in the past months and didn't attempt to maim an innocent human.

Some time after the class was spent consoling a crying Shiemi, as she'd gotten such a basic answer wrong during class that even the newbies were laughing at her; however, shortly after that everything began to go horribly wrong. Yes, _again._

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Rin was so understanding, _too_ understanding. Or maybe it was just the stupid in his brain reminding us that I'd definitely been the only one born with a sense of self preservation. How could he not blame me? Only two days had passed since I had all but offered him bound and gagged on a silver platter to be sacrificed to an inane cause that ended up biting us all in the ass anyway; I'd tried to fucking _kill_ him, saw my own hand pull the trigger on him, and the only thing that pissed him off was the fact that I didn't tell him anything beforehand. I guess Rin had always been, well, special.

But it was more than that. Oh, I knew. I knew that, although he could be the biggest moron this side of reality, he was smart in a way that could never be attained by studying. His faith and loyalty, so different from mine, would never falter.

"Rely on me too sometimes! You always forget that I'm the older one," he'd said while nursing a still sore bruise suspiciously close to where my bullet had pierced his flesh. As if neglecting to talk to him was the most heinous deed I'd committed in my whole lifetime. As if I hadn't just lost control of the blue flames and killed a dozen misguided exorcists.

Later on I asked him why he didn't seem to mind that his brother was a murderer of both demons and humans. His response was to grab me in an unrelenting hug and plant an unprecedented rough kiss on my lips.

"What, I can't give my little brother a kiss?" He laughed at my stuttered astonishment before abruptly becoming serious. "We're brothers. _Brothers_. We're all we have left, really. And that's my fault, I know, _I know, dammit,_ but I'm not letting you go, ever."

And he childishly linked his arms behind my neck so I couldn't escape, and I childishly linked my arms behind his back because I didn't want to let him go either, ever.

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It had started with only one demon. High ranking and powerful, as he referred to us as 'little brothers', he probably wouldn't have lasted too long against the two of us. There was no time to call for backup; as soon as the rest of them were spotted, we'd been fighting for our lives.

"Father is angry," one of them stated, simultaneously whacking the gun from my left hand and knocking me down before I could draw one of my spares.

"That only means more fun for us!" Another one tongued his fangs before rushing towards Rin, held back by the blue flames that burst from his body and sword.

We struggled with the demons until I was dangerously close to depleting my bountiful supply of bullets, but there were at least six of them and only two of us. Not even our flames could save us this time.

They eventually had us cornered, bloody and weary, and they eagerly stalked in on us, closing off any hope for escape.

If I was thinking clearly, I could possibly admit to myself that there were no other feasible options. There was no way out, no one to come and rescue us, nothing to explain _how the fuck_ half a dozen extremely powerful demons had broken past the barriers in the school in the first place.

There was nothing I could have done to produce a different outcome but dammit it wasn't supposed to be like that! I had worked hard, so hard, for the better part of my short life. I should have been able to do something. Only a few days before I had bared the title of Paladin, albeit in somewhat shameful and immoral circumstances, but what good was being called a genius exorcist if I couldn't even save us from a few deranged demons? What was the point of any of my goals, dreams, prior to that point if I couldn't even protect my own brother?

I felt the claws of one of the demons as he ripped through the flesh of the back of my neck. The last thing I was aware of before I was consumed by the dark void was Rin screaming my name as another demon descended on him from above.

When I awoke, Rin was nowhere to be found; only the hilted half of a broken Kurikara served as evidence that he was there at all.


	2. Chapter 2

They told me I had been subjected to a fatal dosage of poison, and the only reason I was alive was because of the demon blood running through my veins. I don't know if I could count this as a blessing or a curse, that I was forced to remain there, recovering, while Rin was still nowhere to be found.

There was no way anyone would go looking for him; even if anyone wanted to expend resources searching for the missing spawn of Satan, there simply wasn't enough manpower available. Everyone was focused on rebuilding what had been destroyed. That and we didn't have any clue where on earth they would have taken him. And if it wasn't on earth, well, it wasn't like we had easy access to Gehenna.

Mephisto was, of course, a complete pain in the ass, refusing to answer any questions directly and speaking in half German riddles. It was no secret to the higher up exorcists that he was a demon, if his appearance didn't give it away, and it was no secret to me that he was what I could call a half brother.

I never found out the reason Mephisto had taken up residence in True Cross, or why he seemed more docile, or at least less likely to afflict bodily harm, than the rest of the god forsaken family, but Dad trusted him, mostly.

I had a responsibility as an exorcist, too, and while the only thing I wanted to do was run out and search for Rin, I had to return to class as usual and hope that one of my missions would reveal some clue to his whereabouts.

I could only pray that he wasn't dead, but, no, if they wanted him dead they could have just killed him at the school.

There were too many questions; too many parts of the puzzle missing and not a damn thing I could do about it.

"What happened to Rin! Is he all right?" I was plagued with questions the moment I walked into the classroom, the loudest coming from Shiemi. They couldn't believe that he was gone, that there was nothing they could do at that time to get him back. They looked to me and saw that I had no answers and refused to accept that he wasn't coming back. They were only Exwires, though, and no more answers than I did.

The hardest, though, was Kuro. His cries cut through what little heart I had left.

Losing Rin was like losing a part of myself. I might was well have gotten my arm or leg cut off; it probably would have affected me less. Sure, we fought. A lot. We probably hadn't agreed on anything more serious than dinner in the past year but, like he said, we're _brothers_. For us, it was more than blood. It was the fact that we hadn't spent more than a week or two apart in our whole lives. It was how he forgave me for the faults I hadn't realized were there, how even when we were fighting he would welcome me back from a long mission with a smile and plate of food.

I hated him. I hated that he grew up peacefully while I was plagued with the sight of demons. I hated how I tried so hard, met and exceeded everyone's expectations, and it was still never truly _home_ unless Rin was there. I hated how he could fail every test and never even pick up a book but still have things to teach me. I hated that he was stronger than me even though I could easily kill him if I wanted to. I hated that I blamed him for things that I knew weren't his fault, that he had no control over.

I hated that I blamed him for Dad's death, still, even though I knew it wasn't fair to him. And I hated that I loved him through all of it. So much so that I could barely find the will to get up in the morning because he was gone.

I had become an exorcist to protect myself from the demons harassing me when I was a little kid. It was purely selfish reasons that had started me on this path, but it was the desire to protect Rin that gave me the motivation to work harder and become stronger than anyone else my age. Even before I learned that we were the sons of Satan, when all Rin knew of demons were fairytales and children's nightmares, I promised that I would save both of us from the darker side of this world.

I failed and it was Rin that paid for it. I hated him, but I hated myself so much more.


	3. Chapter 3

Dear anonymous reviewer: Thank you so much for your support, it really made my day. I'm now even more conscious of every possible grammatical or spelling mistake, and I hope I catch them all. This is actually my first attempt at writing in first person, and I hope I can do both Rin and Yukio justice. I'm glad you like it; I'm always amazed when I learn someone speaks more than one language fluently. Three years of Japanese and I still can't put together a sentence properly. Again, thank you; you've inspired me to procrastinate reading Frankenstein to work on this.

Chapter 3

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Well, I guess that Dante guy wasn't too far off after all.

Don't get me wrong, I never actually read that shit. Trying to read even the first page made me physically ill. But you don't go around being Yukio's brother without picking up a few nerdy things, and theories of hell seem pretty relevant when you're the son of the devil.

Actually, most of what Dante wrote was probably pulled out of his ass, but he at least got all the circles right, somewhat.

For example, the first layer, Limbo: it was a nearly perfect mirror image of Assiah, but offered no promise of salvation to the souls cursed to wander there for eternity. Once you're in, there's no getting out. It housed the least violent demons, like the coal tar, and the souls of those that weren't particularly good in their past life but still innocent of any major sins. It was the least challenging feeding ground of the more powerful demons.

Gehenna wasn't divided by physical barriers but by layers of existence, and to transverse these layers you had to possess enough power or cruelty to get through. As the son of Satan, however, I got a free pass all the way the ninth circle, home of the king of hell himself. Passing through these layers felt like every molecule of my body was being torn apart and put back together with a stapler.

Being pulled through hell kicking and screaming while my little brother was left injured in another world was definitely not on my to-do list, but the demons' grips were unrelenting and I was already burdened with several wounds that strangely were not healing as fast as they normally would. The sights held before me were fleeting, too indistinct to decipher clearly at the speed we moved, and the heaviness of my limbs and the warm pulse of the blood leaving my body harvested all my attention and lulled my consciousness into the void.

I entered a state of sudden wakefulness and my eyes opened abruptly, taking in the situation with a solemnity that I was rarely given credit for. I was left in an area that greatly resembled the Coliseum. The walls towered above me at such a height I couldn't determine where building ended and sky began. The support beams were built of stone and enormous bones, some with deposits of flesh still hanging off the edges, and blood, crimson and champagne and opaque darkness, coated the walls, slipping down and covering the various textures before disappearing through the arched windows into the uneasy background of a stormy red sky.

It looked like a cliché set from a low budget horror movie, the kind I'd forced Yukio to watch with me when we were younger even though he'd usually end up sobbing into my shoulder when it got too gory. I wondered if he had to pretend to be afraid to make me feel better about myself as a brother, since he had probably witnessed worse in real life as a toddler.

My legs and abdomen were numb; I was encased in a layer of ice at least eight inches thick all around me. I could see a layer of ice extending from my position across the floor, held back only by molten flames springing up from the floor. They waltzed back and forth, advancing and retreating, as did the ice, as if fighting for a median temperature in which they could coexist. The two forces, extreme heat and the absolute absence thereof, thriving in such close proximity was chaotic, unnatural. In the world above, in Assiah, they would never be permitted to interact as such.

Even though I was aware of the intense warmth emanating from the flames, it seemed to me far off, unreachable and intangible. I was so cold; my True Cross uniform did nothing to diminish the frozen shock spreading throughout my body. My arms were free but useless. One was broken or at least sprained at the wrist, swelling as my demon blood went to work, finally, on my wounds. The other struggled futilely against the heat sucking bondage, but only held a promise of succumbing to the paralytic effect of the subzero prison if I persisted.

On the journey to this place my flames were uncontrollable as the broken Kurikara was unable to rein them in. After all the crap I had been through, I had finally learned to keep a firm grasp on my control over my sanity, most notably affected by the shared governing of the flames between Yukio and me. There was no chance of losing control here, though, as the ice seemed to do more than sap away at my body heat.

I was trapped, powerless, and completely at the mercy of my captors, who, unfortunately for me, most likely did not possess a single benevolent bone in their bodies. I was so_ fucked._

My endeavor to break myself free through sheer mindpower was interrupted by a certain person's arrival, introduced first by crisp footsteps across the burning floor.

It was enough to knock the breath from my lungs and send my mind, which was, under normal circumstances, already on the precarious edge of insanity, careening backwards in time. Back to my childhood, the way things used to be, before everything went to hell.

He advanced towards me in familiar strides with his arms stretched outwards, looking for all the world as if he were merely welcoming me back after a long trip or a disastrous job interview. His priestly coat trailed to his shins, billowing around him slightly as he moved. The cross necklace hung from his neck, a grim and ironic contrast to the place we were in. Even his tacky tinted spectacles rested on his nose as usual, the beaded chains swaying in a way so nostalgic it made the desolation present in my chest throb with emotion I never quite allowed myself to submit to.

I wanted to run to him, bury my face in his coat like I'd done as a little kid, and bawl my eyes out. I wanted to hear reassuring words in his rough voice, to hear him tell me it was going to be all right even if it was a lie. I longed for the comfort and overwhelming security of his embrace, the somewhat acrid but calming scent of his cologne and cigarettes. I desired his approval, his acceptance, his _love_. I wished to beg for his forgiveness in my part of his death, for not trusting him as I should have, for causing him so much trouble when he was alive.

"Rin," he said as he reached me, giving me a heartfelt smile. His voice was a haven, relief and protection all in one word, a property I would never forget regardless of how many years I managed to live. "My son."

_Dad._


	4. Chapter 4

_Dad._

It hit me like a fucking freight train, dragging my psyche back to the reality of the fucked up situation I was in. This was not a happy otherworldly reunion between father and son; this was Gehenna, and if the demonic sons of Satan had attacked us and kidnapped me then there was no way the old man would have had anything to do with it, even if he had somehow ended up in the deepest pit of hell.

He reached a hand out towards me and I snarled, feeling my canines elongate in response to my feelings.

"Get the fuck away from me, bastard."

He halted the movement, putting on a façade of confusion that, now that I knew the whole thing was a farce, I saw through immediately.

"But, Rin, I– " he tried reaching a hand towards me again.

"Don't fuck with me!" I screamed, leaning as far away him as possible. The flare of hope that had risen within me was extinguished just as quickly, the pain of losing him dragging throughout my core all over again.

All masks gone, his soft smile morphed into a disgustingly wide shit eating grin, his teeth glinting razor sharp in the harsh light of the still dancing flames as he began to resemble the moments the old man had been possessed, expression wild and uncontrollable and insane with the power of the king of demons. His hand, now bearing inhumanly long clawlike nails, grabbed my chin, cutting into my skin and dragging my face back towards him.

"What's wrong, _my son?_ Aren't you happy to see your _daddy?" _His grip was unrelenting, forcing me to look into his unnaturally slit pupils as his putrid breath fanned across my face. The repugnant odor caused my stomach to churn as much as the perversion of his countenance. My flailing did nothing to dissuade him.

"Then perhaps you'd prefer someone else?" He laughed repulsively, a mockery of the man whose appearance he exploited. His features melted away, losing their shape and texture before reforming again, not unlike the process of molding clay. Scarcely a moment later I beheld the firm but attractive features of my twin brother, so like mine but not, his turquoise eyes condemning me with their gaze.

The king of hell was actually Ditto in disguise; in any other setting or perhaps any other person I would have been in hysterics. _Not my little brother._

For a second I ardently wished for the real Yukio to be here with me. He was a pain in my ass half the time, always nagging and never understanding, but if anyone could get me out of this mess it would be him. But then I remembered that Yukio was actually on a different side of reality, hopefully just wounded, but in no position to go around saving anyone. I was on my own this time, and never before did the prospect seem so undesirable.

"This form is easier for me anyways; you know, the last one possessed and all," Yukio's voice related to me impudently. I swallowed, my mouth going dry; the condescending tone was so similar to when he caught me slacking off on his homework. "I just thought you'd appreciate the fatherly gesture."

My fist connected fully with his face but was only enough to knock off his glasses; not even his skin gave way under my bruised knuckles. I knew that even if I had been fully rested and healthy, my strength would not have moved him an inch.

He caught my wrist with his free hand, twisting it in his grip until a sharp _snap_ and my cry of pain signaled its break. His other hand released me long enough to backhand me across the face hard enough to make my eyes smart. I could feel my cheek swell almost instantly and I spit the tooth that had fallen loose in his face, seeing it bounce off his forehead. He laughed at my childish action.

"Too afraid to show your own face you gotta steal others'?" I taunted, nursing my wrist. His hand regained its purchase on my chin, painfully pushing at the swell. The shit eating grin looked no better on Yukio than it did the old man, and I shuddered at the effect it had on his demeanor. Insane was definitely not a good look for him.

"Let me explain this so you'll understand. I've heard you're the dumber of the two so I'll make sure and talk real slow." His nails raked painfully over my skin and left bloody trails in their wake.

"Fuck…you," I managed, using my uninjured hand to grapple futilely with his hold on me.

"Now listen here, you little shit." His other hand tightened into a fist and punched me in the stomach, shattering through the ice and possibly rearranging my internal organs. "You might want to watch what you say a little more carefully. You don't heal as quickly over here, and I have a pretty short fucking temper!" He accentuated his point by giving me a matching lump on the other side of my face.

"I could have won! I could have ruled!" I was struggling to breathe at this point, but the bastard took no notice, letting his failures out on me as if I was some sort of half human punching bag.

"I thought I could use the youngest one for my plans, but _no,_ he was already too invested. Those exorcist dogs have already broken him in, and they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, right?" He laughed at his absolutely _hellish_ sense of humor. "But then there's _you_," he stated, letting his gaze wander from my face to the rest of my body, admiring in a way that made me want to hurl, before returning his eyes to mine.

"The other one looked so like Yuri; it's truly a shame he didn't inherit our ideals. But fear not, my son, you will not face such neglect here. You will be raised as the demon prince you were born to be." His words were accompanied with another unpleasant sweep of his eyes.

"And if I refuse?" I ground through my teeth. There was no way I was going to let him get away with whatever he was planning.

He looked mildly shocked, as if the problem of my cooperation hadn't even occurred to him. He recovered quickly, though, and Yukio's familiar features twisted back to that of maniacal glee. He relinquished his hold on me and held his hand to the icy bonds, letting free a torrent of scorching blue flame.

For a moment I was sure my body would combust as the blistering heat of the flames melted down the ice around me, leaving me excruciatingly bare to the element. Then the heat abated and the ice reformed, catching my wrists, one still broken, and shot outwards and towards the sky to freeze onto the rounded wall at points at least half a dozen yards above me, effectually leaving me suspended an agonizing inch off the ground and forcing my shoulders, lifted at an uncomfortable angle, to hold my weight. My legs were left tingling painfully as feeling and heat returned to them too quickly.

His maniacally gleeful laughter, a sickening debauchery of the bittersweet voice I knew so well, rang out shrilly, and the shiver that raked down my spine had nothing to do with the change in temperature.

"I understand now!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide in garish gesture and lifting his head upwards, as if to speak to the heavens themselves. "Yes, you'll have to be broken in a bit; that's only to be expected of your obstinate human side! You'll learn what's best for you soon enough."

"Not gonna happen," I snarled, breaking into his rather long winded and deranged spiel. I already knew I was pretty much screwed; unless a miracle worker came by I wouldn't be getting free any time soon. The bonds holding me were unbreakable by my body at that time, but I wouldn't be going down without out at least some semblance of a fight. I gathered the strength that had returned to my lower extremities and jerked my knee up as hard as I could, hitting him right in the –

–rock solid crevasse of his apparently androgynous body? He looked incredibly unimpressed; my efforts left me resisting the urge to curl up and weep over my injured funny bone.

"I don't remember saying you had a choice." A wave of his hand let loose a few cerulean embers, melting enough of the unnatural ice for it to defy gravity by sliding down my arms and creeping up my neck, finally refreezing as a mask the stretched from ear to ear. It miraculously left my nose open to breathe, but trying to speak caused my tongue to be frozen to my bottom lip. My glare only served to entertain him further.

"Now, I am a king, and therefore do not have time to be looking after bratty kids all the time," he continued as if uninterrupted from before. "So I'll have to leave you to your brothers for a while, at least until you're worth it."

He stepped closer into my personal space until he was a mere inch or two away. I tensed, ready to lash out with what limited mobility I was allowed, but he made no further move other than to once again place his stolen turquoise eyes on me, all over me. Measuring, speculating, appreciating. _No one _had the right to look at me like that.

"You are my son," he stated.

I could _feel_ the crimson bleeding into my pupils. This man, regardless of whose skin he wore, was not my father.

As if he could hear my heretic thoughts, he once again brought his eyes to mine, burning, smoldering with the intensity of his insanity.

"_You are my son,_" he repeated, intoning a note of finality.

He turned abruptly and left, ever the dramatic villain.

His shadow, growing smaller as his steps receded, morphed into the form of a monstrous creature, hideous in shape and stature, for a single second after he had passed through the archway and disappeared from my sight. The second passed, however, and then it, too, was gone, leaving me hanging alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the wait.

Things I don't own: Ao no Exorcist

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"Yer should still be resting."

I ignored Shura's concern in favor of recording the data from our most recent mission.

"Four-eyes…" she tried again.

"I'm fine," I interrupted her. "I heal a lot faster nowadays, remember?"

"That's not what 'm worried about." She intruded into my bubble of person space – too close–and snatched the pen from my hand midsentence, leaving an unsightly smear across the mission report. She held it behind her, out of my reach. I dared not grab for it; I would most likely end up with a face full of her ridiculously large bust and her undying amusement in besting me once again.

"Yer not doing anyone any favors by working yerself to the bone. Not me, not yer, and not Rin."

Same Shura as always: straight to the point, no matter how much discomfort and pain her words brought.

Still, we had trained together for the better part of a decade. She was probably one of only a few that could see through my rather exemplary work ethic as of late to the muddy and worthless feelings behind it.

"I don't need your approval," I replied, working to keep my voice level.

She fell silent, surely controlling the urge to bash my head in with her sword. The atmosphere was suddenly very tense, and I used her hesitation to regain proprietorship of my pen.

"It's not –I'm not trying to tell you what to do," she said, surprising me. Dropping the slight tilt of her words, her accent-she was serious.

When had she ever willingly given up a chance to rub her superiority in my face?

"I'm just worried about you," she confessed. She fidgeted a little, crossing her arms in front of her and avoiding eye contact.

"We all miss Rin, but getting yerself killed from some stupid demon isn't gonna bring him back any faster."

"Then what do you suggest I do, sit around waiting for him to come back?" I seethed. Shura was making a considerable effort, I knew, to be civil and supportive, but at the moment all I wanted was to uncharacteristically blow her off and finish the report by myself.

"No, but–"

I finished the page I had been writing on and turned to leave. Talking about _feelings_ with Shura of all people would not benefit me in any way.

"Yer old man wouldn't have wanted this!" she called after me, desperation clear in her voice.

I didn't let any part of my body react to her words. I left her there, at a loss, and didn't turn back.

Later on I would reflect that I was possibly being unfair to her; she was rude and uncouth, but then so was Rin, and she had more than proven herself loyal to us, rather than the Vatican. But she didn't have any more answers than I did, even after all this time. Her words made sense; I should think of my own health first and wearing myself out could potentially make things even harder in the future. Logic didn't impact my resolve, however. If Rin was still missing then I didn't have time to lying around in a hospital, and if working myself to death was what it took to get him back, then so be it. I would willingly give all I had for his safe return.

I resolved the next morning to visit Mephisto to inquire into details of a next mission. Shura could not change my mind; I wasn't going to stop searching for him, even if the only means at my disposal were disappointing mission reports and Mephisto's half-cracked grin. And dammit if he wouldn't give me some sort of clue eventually; as whatever son of Satan, it was impossible for him to have no knowledge of Rin's fate. I could only hope that if Rin really had –died –then Mephisto would have said or done something to discourage my rather reckless behavior lately. I wasn't risking my neck on all these missions, far larger in quantity than I usually take on, for the good of the world, and he knew it.

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That night, I suffered through an experience unlike any I had endured previously.

The first time I dreamt of Rin was about a week after he was kidnapped. Afterwards I tried to convince myself that I was just letting the stress get to me and that I needed to eat healthier. I had not been able to make out any sort of logic during the dream cycle; I was aware instead of only certain details and feelings, the causation of which was unclear. I knew only of a surreal clash of shameful humiliation and antipathetic horror, provided presumably by my own twisted subconscious in an ambient style of an out-of-body experience.

It was of Rin, of course, in a setting unknown. His face was severely contorted in pain, his mouth opened as if to scream, but if he did then I was unaware, as no sounds were conveyed to me. Faint impressions of others had made themselves known to me, unfamiliar faces, claws dripping with blood.

When I had emerged from sleep, if it could be called that, I was drenched in sweat and tormented by ghosts of bittersweet longing and profound guilt.

I had suffered with nightmares for as long as I could remember. As a child, the monsters that I thought I was alone in seeing followed me into my sleep and often kept me up in terror. I would sneak into Rin's bed in the middle of the night and hide my face in his shirt, feeling safer in his close presence, even if he was not conscious of the demons that haunted me.

I didn't understand. Was a deeper level of my psyche trying to tell me I had fucked up worse than I thought? I already knew it was my fault, that Rin was most likely suffering somewhere because of me. I didn't need any reminders.

But then it happened again a few days after, a hazy dream of Rin, and the day after that, then again two days later, and so on. I was plagued by these sporadic dreams, and each one grew a little more vivid, a little less ambiguous.

They were killing me.

Not physically, of course. But the mental fatigue it enforced upon me, worse with each unsuccessful mission and attempt to gather knowledge on Rin's whereabouts, was slowly draining away my usually impeccable self control. I wanted to storm into enemy territory and murder each and every worthless demon until only Rin and I were left, but that would only serve to rid me of my rather useless life, and then how would I get Rin back?

That night, the moments before I took my rest were the same as on any given night before it. I was alone; Kuro had taken to leaving for days at a time. Without Rin he was not bound to anyone, and, while he didn't rampage like when he learned of Dad's death, he never stuck around long enough to give me a chance to talk to him, to apologize, maybe, though I had no idea what on earth I could say that would fix anything. The most I could do was ensure a sufficient supply of catnip wine was available for him, as an incentive for him to come back at all. His heart had been broken too much in too short a period of time for him to trust anyone, even someone as close as me, easily.

I had fallen into the habit of praying before I slept, silently and informal; a personal heart-to-heart with any deity willing to listen to the son of the devil. It had been many years since I had caved to what I saw as energy and thought wasted on a fictional character; after all, if Satan were so easily accessible, why was this kind and all-powerful God so distant and cruel?

Praying was an unfamiliar action by lack of use, but if it could help me, could help Rin, then selfishly denying such aid because of my superfluous pride would only further wear down my guilt-ridden conscience. Rin was such a pain in the ass when he was around, always causing problems, almost getting himself killed, slacking off and never listening; for Christ's sake, it was his fault Dad died! He did all that, but…but then why did it feel like my whole life had been ripped apart in his absence? A single person among the plethora of beings in the universe should not have an utterly complete hold over my thoughts, my conscience, my life. But he did, because he was Rin.

The last few dreams had been more clear than not, vivid faces of demons doing hideous, disgusting things to Rin. It was torture, without a doubt. I forced myself to believe in the only sort of consolation I had, that it was just a dream, a twisted manifestation of stress and guilt, perhaps a belated effect of Satan's possession of my body.

However, this dream –no, not a dream; this was undoubtedly a vision of some kind. My subconscious was fucked up, I'll admit, but I could never imagine anything even close to resembling this kind of–

Before, I was always a spectator, horrified at witnessing those…_things_ done to my own brother but detached nonetheless.

This time it was me in Rin's place. I was frozen, not from fear, but from literal ice binding my limbs, holding me captive. Every part of my body ached. I felt dirty, as though the layers of filth I could see covering my –Rin's –body had seeped into my very soul, staining it black with pain and hatred.

Figures moved around me, all dark haired with shockingly bright eyes. The icy shackles were replaced by silver chains, material easily burned by my blue flames, but it was as if all the power within me had been sucked out; I couldn't find the strength to even struggle, and the flames, always a close constant now, were inordinately evasive when I called upon them.

Burning. Not within, not emotional rage, but external. Blue flames licking up my legs, flames whose heat broke through the sluggish iciness I felt encasing me, miraculously not burning me though I could feel they were neither mine nor Rin's. It became hard to see, blurry through the hue of the flames surrounding me.

My limbs were suddenly pulled taut; I was lifted into the air by the chains surrounding my extremities. The chains were extended out in all four opposing directions, but I couldn't tell what was on the other end. The flames danced and surged around me, and in a moment of clarity I saw –

myself?

Rin and I had similar faces, but there could be no mistaking this. It was me. The bluish green eyes, the twin moles that I so despised…

Features that I've heard the girls in my classes call handsome, twisted in manic anger. Have I ever looked like that? So far gone, menacingly _insane_?

A face, a person, became clear beside my doppelganger. Familiar yet not; her beautiful face and wavy locks of brown –Mother?

I struggled to recall in this situation the picture given me by that man, _grandfather_, that I'd glanced at briefly before casting aside along with any hope of regaining the family I'd never had. It wasn't important to me then: a woman that had died the day I was born, that had given in to Satan's wiles, that I had never known.

My lookalike's eyes met mine, the insanity within changing to surprise. Did he know? What did he know?

My thoughts were cut short. A slight tug on my restraints were the only warning I was given before –pulling –

My mouth opened, but it was Rin's voice that I heard, that I felt, come out. Hoarse, tortured, overused. It was Rin but I felt what Rin felt; in that moment, I _was_ Rin, we were one, and we both felt that, that excrutiating –

I woke up screaming out loud, unaware of the reality I was in. Sweat covered my entire body; my wide eyes took in none of my surroundings. All I could feel, the only thing real to me at that moment, was the _pain_, the agonizing–

It was several minutes before I could control my hyperventilating to check to make sure. My arms, my legs, they had been…

I was whole. But I was not. Rin was not.

I would not be able to tell myself that it was only a dream. It wasn't.

Rin was…Oh _god_ Rin had been…

Bile rose in my throat, and my attempts to launch myself off my bed resulted in a humiliatingly desperate crawl to the toilet.

It was my fault. Rin was in hell, suffering, possibly even dead by now. My fault, my blame, my responsibility. Mine to fix.

Neither Satan nor God could stop me.


	6. Chapter 6

A pale hand roused me from the pain-induced sleep I was in. The hand urged me to a white cot, and the welcome difference between the soft sheet and the rough stone of the floor I had slept on stifled any resistance I had to the prodding. The hand brushed against my forehead, checking for fever, while its twin slipped off the used bandages it had helped to secure the day before.

They always moved me while I was unconscious, so I wouldn't have any concept of location. It was supposed to catch me off guard, hinder any ability to escape.

This time I had ended up in a bare room, geographical location unknown. It was little more than a prison cell, really, but I wasn't having anything stabbed into me at the moment so I guess I couldn't complain.

"Rin, how do you feel?" The owner of the hands asked me. The soft voice was laced with concern. I didn't doubt it was one hundred percent guileless.

It was honestly one of the stupidest questions I had ever heard.

"Fuckin peachy," I answered.

The other person clicked her tongue in distaste for my language. The hands infiltrated my personal space once again to nudge my arms upward and begin winding a fresh roll of bandages around the newly formed skin casing the socket of my shoulder.

"You should learn to be more careful." Her softly lilting voice reprimanded me. The hands finished the right side and moved onto the left. I lifted the arm experimentally; it seemed, even when the flames and all the powers associated with them refused to answer my call, my healing ability hadn't deserted me, though it did take considerably longer to recover. Slowly but surely, I would heal.

"The bastard should learn to be less of dick."

I let out a hiss of pain as she pulled the cloth too tight, constricting the sensitive skin.

"Why do you defy him so? He has only your best interests in mind," she pleaded. Again, nothing but absolute honesty shone through her teal eyes.

It made me sick.

"That…man…has no idea what my 'best interests' are," I refuted. This wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation. Unfortunately, I was currently too immobile to storm out like the bitchy teen I wanted to be. Furthermore, there actually wasn't anywhere to storm out to. Lava, burning pitch, rivers of blood, and roads of screaming, undead corpses didn't give me a lot of viable options to turn to. I had no idea how to even get out of the place. And, of course, the chains were still binding me from any useful movement. "And I doubt he thinks separating me from my limbs is likely to benefit me, no matter what you say."

She frowned, temporarily marring her forehead with small lines. Her face was still young; she hadn't aged a day in the last sixteen or so years. Well, of course not. She's dead.

Wavy brown hair framed her pretty face. Her disgruntled expression coupled with the familiar eye color and features was undoubtedly similar to Yukio's; in fact, it was nearly identical to his manner when heatedly lecturing me on my failing grades, and it was clear he'd gotten the moles from her. I could feel my mouth moving to mirror the frown.

"He's still your father, you know, and he –"

"My father is Shiro Fujimoto!" I slapped those hands away from my wounded body. She recoiled from my anger, falling away from me as I painfully pushed the upper half of my body vertical. "That bastard is not my father. And as far as I'm concerned, I don't have a mother, so you can take your twisted ideals and shove them –"

"Stop it!" She slapped her hands to her ears in denial, as if that would stop the truth of the words coming from my mouth. "You don't mean that!"

I refused. I was far more accepting of her bullshit when I had first met her, weeks before, but the place was unrelenting in the toll it took on my patience and my hope of getting out. Each day seemed to leave me a little more despairing than the last, and there was no promise of an end. I would never submit, but the constancy of all the _shit_ wore me down easily.

"Stop lying to yourself, _Yuri_. If you were a parent of mine, why would you let him do this to me? Why would you sit back and watch as he destroys the world we both came from?"

"I trust him!" Tears threatened to leak from her eyes, the eyes that were passed to my little brother. Her eyes weren't dear to me, though. I felt no remorse in bringing pain and tears to them. "He understands me, my goals! Why can't you accept that? I thought you of all people would be eager to work with us, to help us bring demons and humans together!"

"Look, lady," I began, reaching over to grab the roll of medical gauze she had somehow attained in a place where everyone was either already dead or capable of healing faster than the need for the treatment. "If you think uniting Gehenna and Assiah is a _good_ thing, then you're nuts! You're only helping him win domination over both worlds."

"That's not true," she whimpered, finally removing the hands from her ears. Her wide, emotional eyes begged me to change my mind. It wasn't happening, obviously. "He's not that cruel…You just don't understand him yet!"

I stared incredulously. "Satan isn't some misunderstood victim here. He's the fucking king of _Hell_. He eats human souls as _snacks_. With all the shit he's done to me in just the past two months, there's no way you can't know he's fucking evil. You're deluding yourself!"

This woman was human, once. Perhaps her ideals were worthy of some merit. Demons and humans, together…

There was no escaping my demonic heritage. My eyesight was sharp, more accurate at a distance and in the dark than a human's. The pupils of my eyes alternated red and black, elongating into feline ellipses according to my emotions. The shape of my eye was what Yukio called a _vesica piscis_, and though I really didn't want to think about what a fish bladder had to do with my eye, I knew there was a distinct and disconcerting difference between the acute point of the corners of my eyes, then and a year before.

My teeth resembled a vampire's, and were able to bite through most anything I would want to bite through. Hell, my ears were pointed at the tips like a fucking leprechaun, and let's not forget the furry tail sticking out of my pants.

No normal human would ever look like me. I was willing to bet that no abnormal human looked like me, either.

And maybe I just spent too much time looking in the mirror, rather than, say, studying.

And yet I still felt human, still considered myself human. I saw Yukio as human, as well, though his features had sharpened to match mine. At the risk of sounding saccharine and cliché, it's what's inside that counts, right? And I had successfully lived for many months as a demon, with humans. Who was I to deny that right to any other demon?

Something like destroying the barriers between Earth and Hell was beyond me. There was no way I'd ever completely understand the theory behind it, but I wasn't about to sit back and let it happen. As far as I'd seen, whenever humans and demons got together in large quantities, people died, demons died, and a lot of shit got destroyed. Even in my case –how many exorcists had died trying to kill me, trying to save me, because of me? Too many for just one person. Way too many for me.

The only thing my biological mother would get from me was sympathy, for how much she had wasted on a naïve dream that had no realistic basis, with a man–demon–that most likely played her like a fool to get what he wanted. Perhaps pity would be more appropriate.

She shook her head passionately, violently, and I wondered if it was possible for her to strain her neck. How dead could one become, really? From what I'd seen, life generally didn't simply end. And in her case, life most likely wouldn't end at all, if what she had could be considered living.

Our argument was cut short, however, with the sound of light footsteps and the arrival of a familiar demon. Amaimon announced his presence only with the creak of a door and a suck of his lollipop. His sight fell to Yuri's, blank yet still managing to be threatening. Dominance was clear.

The woman wouldn't submit that easily, though. "I'm to stay here until Satan returns."

The demon's gaze narrowed at the challenge. It was _his_ turn to play with the toy.

"Change of plans," was all he revealed. It was enough.

Yuri seemed powerful when backed by Satan, but usually didn't stick around long when Satan's other sons were involved. Despite being a well known exorcist in her lifetime, she apparently wasn't that tough compared to the demon royalty.

With her gone, I was left warily watching the room's other inhabitant as he made it a priority to finish his sucker before anything else. Amaimon was unpredictable. Not that any of the other demons I dealt with were predictable, really, but I never really knew what he wanted, or where he played into Satan's plans.

With the loud _crunch_ signaling the end of the candy, Amaimon was free to acknowledge my presence by ducking into the room –failing to save the sharp green point of his hair from the door frame –and approaching me with what appeared to be a collar that he'd pulled out of, actually, I don't really want to think about where he pulled it out of…his pants were far too tight to accommodate something of that size naturally.

"H-hey, what is that?" I was already chained by my wrists and ankles, and the chance that I would be able to escape in this condition was bordering negative.

"Shut up." Since I couldn't actually go anywhere, my attempts to scramble away from his approaching figure were most likely pitiful to him, as it got me about two feet away from my original position and still very well within arm's distance from him. So I couldn't escape the metal collar as he snapped it shut around my neck, securing it with a key he'd also pulled out of God knows where.

The collar was studded with protruding spikes, the metal ones forming a neat row around the middle of the contraption. These were complemented by horns created in a more natural manner, rough shards of yellowing bone that seemed to have been pulled from live or once-live animals, or demons, and stuck on in any bare space on the surface of the collar. They looked as though they were pasted on with blood, and effectively prevented me from weaseling my way out of the thing.

While I was distracted with the collar, Amaimon shoved his hand into my face, covering my mouth with his palm. I could feel two of his fingers forcing their way into my mouth, the unhygienic green-tinted nails scraping my upper lip as they did so. The fingers left a small orb in my mouth that strangely tasted of strawberries.

The hand covering my mouth moved to my chin, preventing me from moving my jaw, and his free hand rose to pinch my nose, restricting my breathing.

"Swallow," he commanded. His voice was low and disinterested but I knew he could snap at any moment.

The chains were free enough that I could grapple with his arms, but his grip was like steel. I lasted all of about two minutes before giving in. The candy made its way down my throat, and I could only hope it wouldn't actually kill me. The hands constricting me desisted enough for me to break free. Why couldn't the ability to live without breathing be part of my demon abilities? That would be a little more useful than a sensitive demon tail.

Amaimon surprised me then by taking out another key, using it to release the locks of the chains binding my wrists and ankles. Was I that little of a threat to him?

"Get up and follow me," he directed, rising from the crouch he had fallen into to force the item down my throat and starting towards the entrance.

I cautiously tried to get my legs under me and vertical, and found that I could with no pain and little stiffness. The joints the woman had wrapped earlier felt a lot better, too. Whatever was in that piece of candy, it seemed to have sped up my healing abilities….Just what was this guy thinking?

He led me out of the room, out of what looked like a modern military compound. Well, from what I'd seen in movies, at least. It's not like I'd seen one in real life. It was all thick steel walls and doors, and pass codes, and 'top secret' labels on everything. Like…Stargate, or something. Without the space ships and aliens.

It didn't look abandoned. There was stuff everywhere, folders and papers, and it wasn't dusty, but there was no one there. It was like everyone decided to go on a lunch break at the same time.

It turned out to be underground, the stairs leading down to the entrance disguised by a couple rocks. Outside was empty desert. Area 51?

"Where are we going?" I finally asked. Usually I was dragged against my will whenever I was to be submitted to one of the 'lessons' my half-brothers came up with. I wasn't shown where I was, and there was always more than one watching me. This made me uncomfortable.

The demon ignored my question, instead holding out a bare arm to me. "Hold on," he said.

I scoffed in response. "Not likely." He was going to regret giving me this much freedom.

I turned away from him with the intent to run, but fell to my knees less than a step later. The scream that tore itself from my throat was raw and cracking, a testament to the abuse my voice had been through.

It felt like an electric current, the agony pulsing through my body for what seemed like days. I grappled with the collar, sure that the studded piece was the cause, but the spiked metal and bone kept me from gaining anything more than bloodied fingers.

When the current subsided, I found myself on my hands and knees, my breath coming out in little more than wheezes. Amaimon stood before me and reached his arm out again, eyes narrowing, as if he thought I would be stupid enough to try that again.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." My voice was rough and I wondered why my throat didn't heal as well as fast as the rest of my body. It must not be serious enough, but I had no clue about the medical side of the healing properties of demons. Maybe Yukio would know, and I wouldn't have to spend the rest of my life with a sore throat.

I took hold of his arm, the sickly pale of his skin barely contrasting with mine, and then we were off. Amaimon, the Earth King, with the power to move over the earth at his will. Or maybe he was just fucking fast. Hopefully this time I would make it through in less than five pieces, but maybe that was too much to hope for.


	7. Chapter 7

**_I update really slowly, so thank you to whoever is still actually reading this, I really appreciate it. Also, it appears I've forgotten to include it previously but this story will have yukio/rin paring, but not for a few chapters or so. I'm just gonna keep working on this...so if you have a problem with something or hate the plot or something, please feel free to make it known. Really. Talk to me. _**

**_Also, let me know if the changing viewpoints are confusing anyone. I was thinking of titling them better or something...This one's Yukio. Enjoy!_**

**_._**

Is there really a god?

…Is it heretical of me to ask that question?

But

I know Satan exists. The one who sired us, the one who caused the deaths of so many for our birth. With all that we'd been through, it was impossible to deny his existence. We seemed to be closer to the underworld than the world above.

Satan and his minions weren't shy in achieving their goals. Undoubtedly if the Devil himself were able to reach Assiah, he would have done so. But where was this god we were supposedly fighting for? What kind of beneficent and all-powerful being allows his 'work' to be done by the sons of his greatest enemy? Where is God? Where is His help? Where is the proof that He deserves the capitalization of that pronoun?

Is it only a cruel joke that we've been living, and is there even any chance of salvation for us? For humans at all, let alone Rin and myself, who were born of unforgivable sin?

And, for that matter, if we really were following some higher purpose, why did it turn out like this. With Rin…like this…

If everything I had ever been taught was not a lie, it shouldn't have come to this. With the lidded eyes of my closest brother refusing to open for me, how could I trust in the 'kindness' of any higher power?

…But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

Six days later found me knee deep in mud, hacking through persistent, overgrown weeds in some godforsaken forest in the Middle of Nowhere, Japan, followed by my rather motley crew of exorcists in training. The exorcist exam was fast approaching, an easy to forget additional stressor only a few months away by this time. Each mission the students were exposed to became increasingly more important; thus the newer batch of cram school students were left behind this time, as they would realistically need more time to prepare for the test and would take it the following year instead. By Mephisto's order, Shura had also accompanied us. It was the first mission we'd all gone on together in weeks; it was almost comforting being surrounded by the usual suspects. In this, at least, I knew what to expect.

Any combat planning would be headed by Suguro, and most likely any other things that needed some kind of group cooperation. The tall teen with the rebellious hair was naturally a proactive leader, someone bound to become a respectable and well known exorcist, his above average intelligence aside. He was strong and knew how to get people to listen to him, and the other students undoubtedly looked up to his abilities. Somehow I found us to be somewhat similar in these aspects, outshining our peers through sheer willpower and effort, assisted only by natural talent and perseverance, and the cardinal ability to multitask. Suguro, however, was in no way estranged from his classmates, even those not from his home town. His loyalty had won him their friendship, and his brusque yet honest nature had solidified it. He didn't have anything to hide.

Renzou and Konekomaru were constants; the former's usual lackadaisical attitude left him tentative and somewhat predictable, as did the latter's protective and peaceful nature. In the past months, however, I had seen an unaccounted for courage and determination from both. They weren't natural geniuses but they did the best with what they had, even if they had the highest tendencies to slack off. I couldn't begin to count how many times I've had to confiscate questionable magazines and other items from the both of them, with the smaller boy always denying his willing involvement and blaming the other for the whole situation. They would both most likely be useful arias in the future, furthering their abilities to assist their friend in his resolution to erase the king of demons. They would follow Suguro's lead and give him the support he could rely on.

If Suguro was the best at taking charge, Kamiki was the most level headed of the group. She was good at taking orders but wasn't afraid to call anyone out if she something didn't agree with her. She was the 'check' on the group, keeping the others from making rash or stupid decisions. She had undergone remarkable growth through her friendships, and her ability to call upon familiars made her a necessary asset.

Shiemi was, well, Shiemi. Not very useful in a fight but her caring, motherly approach suited her goal of helping others. She'd been a friend since my first year as an exorcist, though her ditziness was a bit trying at times and her klutziness didn't help. It was refreshing to know someone so pure and simple. She didn't have anything holding her back and only had the future to look forward to because of it. I was slightly envious of her for that. She was also the only one to not give a single damn when I came back that day with pointed ears, sharpened fangs, and a demonic aura.

And Takara was removed from the class shortly after Rin's disappearance. It appeared his purpose there was tied to Rin's power, but the person pulling the strings in his case was unknown.

The mission we were to complete involved strange illnesses afflicting anyone who ventured into the forest as well as stories of giant insects trying to attack them. There hadn't been any fatalities, but if it involved demons there was no telling how dangerous it could get.

Even I was slightly dubious over whether the mission was at a safe enough level for the students. Mephisto had given me the mission himself…said to take the class as a cover. What did that mean? Was it finally a true hint to what I've been searching for?

The anxiety ate its way through my nerves worse than any exam. I tried to keep myself under control. After all, I didn't even know for sure if Rin was still alive. That dream…Our demon blood heals our bodies quickly, but was it possible for even him to survive something like that?

I couldn't give up hope, though. Not for him, not when there was still an option.

"As the report said, there seems to be a swarm of abnormally large insects inhabiting this area," I explained when we stopped for rest near midday. We had left early in the morning and the grueling hours of traversing the deep mud seemed to have left their toll on them. There weren't any shortcut portals to this middle of nowhere.

"Ehh? Bugs?" Shima cried out. His face paled unhealthily and his facial features began to twitch.

"Don't act like this is the first time you've heard of it, stupid!" Bon chided him, smacking him over the head lightly.

"Mr. Okumura clearly mentioned it before we left today!" Kamiki joined in.

Shima had the decency to look ashamed, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his unnaturally pink hair. I looked at him disapprovingly.

"For those of you that decided to sleep through my lecture this morning," I paused, my glare making Shima squirm uncomfortably, as he deserved, "larger than average mukade, giant centipedes, have been spotted, and there has been an abnormal amount of other harmful and potentially deadly insects surrounding this area."

By the time I reached the word "deadly" Shima had already lost his ability to stand properly, held up only by his dedicated friends.

"What kinds of other bugs?" Shiemi asked, her green eyes trembling fearfully. Her small familiar latched on to hair, emitting a small "Ni-" at sensing the distress of the girl.

"There have been quite a variety, the oddest thing being that many of the species are usually found in far away countries. The most prominent of the mix, though, is the bullet ant.

"Renzou," I called, snapping him out of his daze "and anyone else who has a phobia of this nature. Please use this chance to work on your fears."

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Okumura."Shima hung his head in shame. Unbeknownst to him, a small spider descended from a nearby tree, its barely visible web glinting ominously next to the pink hair. The boy went to scratch an itch on his ear, pausing when he felt _something_ on the back of his hand. There was a collective sweatdrop from the surrounding students as Shima's soul seemed to depart from his body, saved only by Bon flicking the accursed arachnid off of his skin.

"I don't think that'll happen anytime soon…"

"I'm serious," I cut him off. "As an exorcist, you will find yourself doing many things that you are uncomfortable with," like yourself and your brother turning into demons, the king of Hell himself trying to possess you, etc.. "and I'm not saying that you can't be afraid of anything, because that would be impossible, but you must be willing to face your fears when it gets in the way of getting the job done. Anyone that is unwilling to do so should leave as soon as possible." My tone morphed into something harsh at the end, but it had the desired effect. They were by no means confident in their abilities, nor should they be, but they had a multitude of determination. They returned my gaze without hesitation, and I felt myself nodding with approval.

"Good. We've spent enough time here as it is. We need to find the cause of these abnormalities before they cause any deaths. Before that, these are enchanted charms that should keep away all of the normal insects, but they won't work on anything demonic. You'll have to rely on your own strength for those." By that time Shura had returned from scouting a few meters ahead, and we were ready to go.

"Um, what exactly is a bullet ant?" Miwa asked his friend a bit after we had resumed. I supposed I should have given a more in-depth description, but they would figure it out.

"It's an inch long ant whose stings feel like a bullet," Bon explained. "Stay away from trees."

"Watch out, th' fuckers c'n smell yer _fear_," Shura teased, letting out a bark of laughter at Shima's face. "An' they jus _lurve_ the color pink!" The sound coming from the boy could only be described as pitiful. Shaking hands came up grip his hair. Maybe he'd rethink the unusual color.

"And they're also known for letting out a warning in the form of a scream."

"Ants that scream?" They all started to look worried.

Ideally, these students wouldn't face something as painful as a bullet ant so soon into their training…but I supposed that they should be better prepared for what they were getting themselves into. Maybe it would give them a high pain tolerance, or something.

But the whole mission still seemed selfish to me. If it turned out to be something related to Rin's disappearance then it would most likely be ridiculously dangerous, and how could I justify bringing ill-equipped students into that fight? I wished Mephisto had sent a fully fledged team of experienced exorcists with me. If I couldn't protect Rin from these evil forces then I obviously wasn't enough to protect a whole class of innocents.

Only about twenty minutes passed before we heard the first of these screaming ants. It was…unholy.

It sounded eerily close to a human's, a screeching that electrified the nerves.

The close proximity of the cedars prevented much movement, as did the slippery ground covered with decaying leaves and muck, so it was only the charms that protected us from the poisonous beings trying to protect their homes. One by one the ants descended upon us, bouncing off the temporary barriers surrounding each of us.

I urged the students not to pay too much attention to them and continue as if they weren't there. The amount of the attacking bugs increased as we traveled deeper into the forest, a sure sign that we were getting close to what we were looking for. We soon we swarmed completely, the ants being joined by various breeds of bees and beetles that had no business working together naturally. For what purpose were these insects all brought together? Most of them, from what I could remember, belonged in remote South American forests. It could only be the work of a very strong demon, but what did they have to gain by setting these insects lose in a largely unpopulated area of Japan?

We were only able to see in front of us by the convenient use of the aria-in-trainings' incantations. At that point, though, I was more concerned with where the enormous centipedes that were supposedly coming next.

The onslaught suddenly became exponentially thicker, the arias unable to ward it off.

"Run fer it!" I heard through the din of beating, buzzing wings and occasional screams of fear.

I heard such a scream close to me, and in the confusion could make out two forms tumbling over one another. One of the forms, a female, judging from the pitch of the scream, slid in the mud away a good distance away from the other one. The insects, seeing a weak link, drove towards her and at that point there was no barrier to protect her.

I ran as fast as I could, but it wasn't enough. Another scream, this time of pain, before I was close enough so that the charm protecting me could include her, too. Kamiki held onto the arm that had been stung, trying her best, it seemed, to hold in her tears. Shiemi, the other one involved in the fall, was lying a few meters away, unconscious but unharmed. I saw Kamiki's charm a bit farther off than Shiemi, useless to her now.

Bon ran into us then and managed to carry Shiemi and the charm, all while continuing to chant prayers of protection _and_ leading a stricken Shima out of the fray. I would have to give him some extra marks, for sure.

But that thought was lost as I spotted sunlight up ahead. More than a mere break in the trees, it looked as if the endless forest had finally come to an end. As we all passed that threshold, we discovered something that shouldn't exist here, on top of the other things that really shouldn't exist here, such as the foreign bugs, but this one was of a lot more consequence, because it was a _city_. And that's not an exaggeration.

But the most important thing to us at that point was the fact that, beyond the small perimeter of empty space and the steps leading through a massive stone gate, there weren't any bugs. It was as close to a safe haven as we were going to get.

"What the hell was all that?!" Shura was the last to cross through the gates and even she collapsed once she saw it was clear of threats. She wasn't used to dealing with things that couldn't be tamed with her sword, and no matter how long she tried, I doubted even she could cut down that many bugs her that weapon alone.

"That weren't an exorcism, that's a fuckin' ambush!"

I had to agree with her. It wasn't turning out as the reports indicated, and I had a feeling that this was all planned by Mephisto and that this city was our target all along. That damn clown was using me…us.

The poison injected into Kamiki wasn't lethal, but the most I could do to appease her pain was give her a few mild painkillers and let her rest for a bit. I couldn't risk giving her anything stronger; we were in unfamiliar territory and needed to be able to mobilize as quickly as possible.

"I'm so sorry, Kamiki!" Shiemi was dropping more tears than her injured friend.

"She was helping me through and I tripped, and it's all my fault!" she explained. Clumsy Shiemi could be cute under other circumstances. Not now.

"Shut up, idiot, I'm fine." She was fine, just obviously in a lot of pain, if her clenched teeth and measured breathing were any indication.

The three arias were inspecting our surroundings under Shura's supervision – "This's still a training mission fer ya guys, so get yer butts movin!" With Kamiki taken care of, I went to join them.

We appeared to be in the courtyard of a large, stone-based city, and it looked centuries old, judging from the cobwebs and level of decay of the walls. It was impossible to tell exactly how big this city was or how it was kept unknown from the Order for so long. The walls were lined with once-lavish statues of muscled up warrior men, equipped with armor and weapons. They were made of bronze and their carved clothing, if they had any, was a plated skirt and sandals. It looked almost…ancient Greek? The style of the architecture was consistent with this, as well, with the prominent buildings resembling ancient temples and the living spaces smaller and more obscure.

I stepped into the middle of the open space and looked down. And looked again.

"This has got to be Mephisto's idea of a _really_ bad joke."

"What's that?" Shura joined me, along with the three male students.

"Wait, isn't that…" Bon got it. The other three just looked confused or angry, Shura the latter of the two.

"What is it, four-eyes?" she asked impatiently.

Engraved below our feet was an enormous circular depiction of a bearded man with a trident. His hair was patterned mimicking waves, and around the whole circle was a series of letters in what I faintly recognized to be an ancient form of Greek. Unfortunately, Greek wasn't offered readily to the students nor the exorcists at True Cross, so I couldn't say for sure, but judging from the picture and everything else…

"Poseidon."

My remark produced a small tick mark on Shura's forehead, whose lack knowledge of anything taught in a real school competed with Rin's.

"Mr. Okumura, are you saying that this could actually be _Atlantis_?" Bon asked before she could beat the information out of me.

"Wha? The heck's an Atlantis?" Shura's lack of knowledge apparently won out over Rin's, which was actually something remarkable. Maybe she should get a prize…

"It's a fabled lost city ruled by the Greek god of the sea, Poseidon," I explained for her benefit, or for the continuation of my health. "It was thought to be a myth, and maybe it still is." I looked around thoughtfully. It was elaborate, yes, but there was no way to know if it was a hoax or not.

"I'm hurt by your lack of trust!"

The words marked the entrance of the one responsible for this whole mess. I doubted there was anyone that looked more out of place that Mephisto in his usual pink getup. He floated down from the roof of a building in front of us with his matching pink umbrella (how Rin could have mistaken him for human, I have no idea) and greeted us with a dramatic, mocking bow.

"I assure you, this is the absolute real thing, and you are the first humans to see it in over five thousand years!" His arms gestured wide, his grin complementing the act. The overall impression was that he was clearly insane. I really wanted to put a bullet in him for the crap he'd put us through. He wouldn't die, necessarily…

It was difficult to keep my face from showing the extent of my irritation.

"Sir, what exactly was the point of this mission?" The politeness in my words was offset by my gritted teeth.

He waved his umbrella once, twice, and suddenly everything was silent. The students and Shura around me were frozen. The insistent buzzing sound from outside the city was absent. There was only me, and Mephisto. He pointed the umbrella to my chest.

"Newest little brother, if you continue on this path, you may regret everything you have done up until now. Are you prepared to take that risk?"

An invitation. A challenge. A gamble. What was my life worth, anyway.

"I will regret it whether or not I take your offer." I looked him in his glowing eyes.

"Then," he replaced the umbrella with an outstretched, clawed hand, "your brother awaits."


	8. Chapter 8

_**So it's my understanding that most people skip the italicized, bolded words at the beginning/end of many chapters in many fics, and that's totally fine since these don't really have anything to do with the story anyway, so I'm just going to use this space to apologize to the people who actually like reading these things or are so bored they read it. I really meant to update this by Friday, I did, but some asshat at school gave me the flu and it's pretty tough focusing on a laptop screen in between puking my guts up and sleeping off the fever, so, sorry about that! Gah, and I'd really wanted to get ahead on this story. **_

_._

Shiro Fujimoto was friends with Mephisto Pheles. That much could not be doubted. In the past they went on missions together, went drinking together, and (failed to) pick up attractive young women together. They were often caught slacking off and playing video games in Mephisto's rooms, and trading questionably appropriate magazines with each other. Though personally I found the eccentric otaku rather annoying and distasteful, Dad liked him. Maybe each just enjoyed the other's sense of humor. (Though there rumors of something –uh, more than that, but it wasn't like I was going to ask them about something like _that…_)

They were friends and Shiro trusted the other man even with the life of his son. It wasn't the first time that I wondered if that trust was earned, or if it would come back to bite us all in the ass in the future. Mephisto had his own agenda. No one was ever certain if he was on our side or Satan's, or perhaps another's. He was unpredictable, and that annoyed me.

_Come, Little Lamb. It is nearly time to repent._

My heart pounded in my ears. My senses were hyperaware; everything was a threat. I was in unknown territory, leaving my life in the hands of a duplicitous fool. I was close though, I could feel it. The anxiety of basing my decisions on delusory hope forced through my systems, leaving my nerves high strung and my fingers itching to feel the safe weight of the familiar guns resting at my waist. Electrified capsules of blood within me caused a yearning, growing stronger with every step we took. I couldn't stop now if I tried.

"What are you up to?"

Mischievous yellow eyes shifted. The Cheshire grin betrayed his façade of innocence, and his hands rose in a mocking display of theatrics.

"Why, whatever do you mean?"

If it really was fake, then it certainly was an elaborate hoax. The level of decomposition of the stone walls was consistent with the time period, and the only way the statues and columns littering the buildings and walkways were fakes was if they were stolen from a museum or a real Ancient Grecian city. He led me through the opening of a dusty building reminiscent of the old temples I remembered reading about in middle school.

"Why is the Lost City of Atlantis, if that's what this really is, in the middle of Japan, why doesn't the Vatican know of this, and how do _you_ know of it?"

The grin continued to manifest itself.

"And how do you know the Vatican is unaware of the situation? I could be merely acting on their orders. That is, after all, what I am supposed to do."

It was more difficult than I expected to control the exasperated sigh that wanted to leave my body. He was _playing_ with me, and I couldn't do anything about it. "The Vatican would have never entrusted something as big as this to two exorcists and a few students. The entire Order would be here, scoping it out. This is all your doing."

"Ho ho, it seems the reputation of genius is well-earned!" Two fingers placed to lips the color of dried blood. I felt the beginnings of the demon coming out in my glare, the tightening of my fists over the holsters of my guns. No doubt my irises, once monochrome in nature, were a blooming crimson rose, as I'd witnessed in those scarce times I had dared a look into a mirror. Mephisto seemed to realize that I was nearing a breaking point. His annoying smirk died down into a serious frown, his styled amethyst eyebrows pushing a faint wrinkle of skin together.

"Things are happening between our worlds."

"What 'things'?"

"The kind that could put an end to everything…for good, or for bad."

"Sir…" Get _on_ with it. I've waited long enough.

Despite everything, I wanted to trust him, I wanted everything he was telling me to be true. I just wanted my brother back.

"This city has never existed in Assiah before a few weeks ago."

"That means?" I'm going to have premature lines and gray hair because of this man.

"Ah, here we are!" The clown façade was back.

Minutely offset from what seemed to be the authentic cityscape, the marble tiling was uncharacteristic of the supposed time period. The rapid pace of my heart pumping this demonic blood through my veins, which I had mistaken for some kind of anxiety, intensified at the foot of the stairway he had led me to. The yearning, aching longing directing my feet reached a climax, and it told me to keep moving, don't stop. I couldn't breathe. It took every year of control I had over my body not to stumble on the way down to the gaudily misplaced gold-cast double doors awaiting us at the bottom. Another wave of his umbrella and the doors fell open inward.

True to his act, Mephisto spun in a dramatic flair, the white cape hanging from his collar whipping out and revealing the purple underside. "Welcome to my laboratory!"

"What."

In a second I was through the portal and halfway across the room. My right hand tightly gripped the handgun, my index finger poised to take the shot. Less a millisecond later, my left hand mirrored its counterpart, my arm torqueing behind me slightly to aim beyond my line of sight. I wouldn't need to see to blow his head off. The barrel of the right hand gun pressed forcefully into unnaturally forest colored hair; the left was trained in between two catlike eyes belonging to the man that was quickly becoming top of the list of 'People to Accidentally Kill When I Have the Chance.'

"Is."

Half a dozen feet away lay Rin, presumably, hopefully just, unconscious.

"This."

The simple cot was raised above waist level, the occupant just barely fitting into the length of the padded mat; if he were any taller his feet would be hanging off the edge.

Wires were attached to every part of his body, the stickies visible on his temples, his arms, all the way down his bare torso to his feet.

He was dirty, nearly every part of his exposed skin covered in blood or dirt or worse. Where his arms met his shoulders, two irritated, ropy scars covered the circumference of the section. But he was alive, I could see his breaths and if I didn't know better I would mistake him as merely asleep. More than that, I could _feel_ it, the blood thrumming through his veins as though it were my own.

I felt myself shudder discreetly, my right hand pushing the gun more insistently into the head covered in green to keep it steady. _I found him._ _Alive._ But it wasn't over yet.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Your brother's life is, literally, at his fingertips. Well, the tips of his nails, but you get the idea." That grin, I wanted to cut off of his face.

"Last test initiated." The demon was unaffected by the display. His nails, inches long and painted gothic black, finished with an emphatic clacking of the 'enter' key.

I pulled the hammer back, the _click_ ringing out in emphasis.

"Ooh, you're angry! Don't worry; our dear, _little_ brother is perfectly fine for now."

If Mephisto's intent was malicious towards me, he'd had a multitude of opportunities to make his move, and it wouldn't make sense for him to allow me to see this place. Unless he got off on watching me get so close to my goal, to Rin, only to fail. I could only hope he wasn't that sick. But logically, I knew I needed whatever information he could give me, and his actions thus far had proved his words true. When neither demon made any move to attack me, I reluctantly lowered my guns, but kept them in my hands, ready to use. I had no choice but to leave myself in the hands of two questionable demons, a decision I really shouldn't make so quickly, but how I'd acted lately couldn't really be categorized as rational. It wasn't safe, but Rin was here, and he was worth it.

I made my way to him on the far side of the room, hardly believing I had finally gotten this far. I checked him over for any obvious wounds, but he appeared to be in perfect health, and even the scars over his shoulders looked nearly healed, if a bit pink. At such close proximity, I felt the steady beating even more clearly, the iambic rhythm that I knew for certain was not my own. I dared not touch him, no matter how much I wanted to.

"What are you doing to him?"

A cursory glance over the room revealed a dozen sophisticated computers, all connected to the main one that Amaimon was operating.

"I'm running an artificial simulation of an alternate reality to stimulate the synapses in his brain and ensure he has retained everything." Amaimon answered in a monotone.

Though it seemed on par with that of modern human's, the technology was decades more advanced than anything we had come up with.

"Have you ever seen _The Matrix_?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"To tell you the truth, some lower level demons got wind of this program and smuggled the information out of hell, where it was picked up by a few sources and managed to get all the way to a movie producer. Kind of makes you question Hollywood, doesn't it?

"Anyway, same idea. It took a couple centuries to perfect it, but this machine is able to essentially upload information into a person's brain. It's a part of their memory, their motor functions, everything. For example," he picked up what looked like a pink memory chip. "This chip holds the entire art of kung fu. Just stick it in the main computer, press a few buttons, and," with a wave of his gloved fingers, the chip disappeared in a puff of lavender smoke. "Rin learns martial arts."

"Why..." Why did you have to go to these lengths. Wasn't it enough that he was training on his own to become an exorcist?

"Why do you protest? This way is easier, no?"

"That's not the point! If Rin doesn't work for it on his own then it's meaningless!" He could have died, and for something so unnecessary.

"Ah, but this way, you don't have to deal with teaching him. Isn't it such a bother, teaching, tutoring, lecturing him, when nothing seems to work?"

"That's –"

"Haven't you always thought that he was too stupid to learn anything, that he'll never be able to pass the test on his own?"

He brought the tip of his umbrella to the ground, producing a sound more akin to an earthquake than the small tap it should've been and cutting off my complaints.

"The last incident with Egin and his followers have left some…undesired consequences. That a human was the one initiating contact with Gehenna and forged the link with the Gate has never been done before. Humans have been used as sacrifices for that purpose, but there has always been a demon directly influencing the power flow. This time there was not. Humans, even trained exorcists, lack the ability to sense demonic power accurately, and that also led to his failure." He sounded a bit too thrilled when speaking of a subject that ended with the deaths of over a dozen men, but then he was a demon.

"And how, exactly, does this translate into the need to kidnap Rin?"

"Woah, calm down. Stop fiddling with your guns, it's making me…_uncomfortable_."

"Why did you allow him to be taken into Gehenna? He could have died!" Even if he was a demon, playing with lives in that way was inexcusable.

"But he didn't, see?" The clown reverted back to his game, gesturing to the still inert form.

"In order to stabilize the shift in little brother's power after the incident, he had to remain in Gehenna for a certain amount of time," Amaimon put in, never taking his yellow eyes from the screens in front of him. He raised a black nail to his mouth, closing down on it with razor sharp teeth,

"That's right," Mephisto accented, sparing an amused glance at the spiky haired relative. "By summoning the Gehenna Gate, Rin's power was transferred into the other side. On top of that, Satan needed to be appeased, so it was like two birds with one stone, so convenient!"

"Rin would have noticed if most of his power was gone," I refuted. All I wanted was to retrieve Rin and get out of there, really.

"He most likely did, but didn't say anything so his precious little brother wouldn't worry about him," he said in that mocking tone. "Or maybe he was afraid of you trying to kill him again, hm?"

My jaw clenched to the point of pain. Rin didn't feel that way. I almost wished he did, with how artlessly forgiving he was.

"If he was at full power, it would have been a lot harder to kidnap him, or hadn't you realized? And with things between worlds going how they are, we couldn't have such a loose cannon running around anyway." Mephisto meandered over to the far left side of the room, taking the time to tinker with jars on the shelves lining the walls. The room was modernized, nothing like the ancient exterior it was hidden in.

"Test complete; he'll be waking up soon."

Within the next five minutes, several things happened. One of them, to my utter relief, was Rin finally opening his eyes. The next was the golden entrance being kicked open, and after that was my being manhandled into a wall by swordpoint, with an angry, scantily clad woman backed by our hodgepodge group of trainees threatening my manhood for answers. I had almost forgotten what had brought me here in the first place.

And somewhere in all this, the two full-blooded demons slipped away, leaving me with no cover story for why I'd essentially abandoned my students and assignment.

So, a failure, but a success nonetheless. I wasn't a complete failure. I got him back.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thanks for all the support! I would've had this chapter up by Saturday but I had to read Wuthering Heights, pain in my ass..I made up for it by making it longer! Oh and if you didn't get the Matrix reference in the last chapter, in the movie, the guy gets hooked up to the computer thing and another person does some like computer programming stuff and then magically the guy knows like karate and rocket science and stuff. Okay, maybe it's a bit different than that, but whatever haha you get the picture. So basically Mephisto and Amaimon took Rin and implanted a bunch of information into his brain. Wish I could do that instead of studying!**_

_**.**_

It was like a buzzing in my ear whenever he wasn't there. Like a mosquito stalking me, eager for my blood, only more of the bzzzt sound in my ear and less of the itchy painful bug bites afterwards, or as if someone were constantly dragging sharp nails across a chalkboard in my head. It was frustrating; I couldn't seem to locate the source, or even what the specific sound of it was. It was more like a _feeling _than an actual sound anyway, something I was constantly aware of. It was just _there_, like a bruise that you couldn't remember how you'd gotten or a new line on your face that you swear wasn't there the day before (though I was too young to know much about that problem). It was distracting, I hated it, and it wouldn't stop. My head ached from the constant abuse, this persistent-_agh, whatever the fuck it was_, and though I'd nearly overdosed on painkillers it just wouldn't stop.

My fingers fumbled while tying the knot of my tie, a nostalgic act that I had become unused to in the past months. My body, clean for the first time in way too long, was restless; every few moments my hands twitched, or my fingers would start tapping any available surface, until I noticed the act and forced myself to stop. Afterwards I would become distracted by that buzzing feeling and the twitch would begin again. Most likely to anyone that saw me I looked like a drug addict, itching for his next fix.

Though I couldn't really remember being conscious often in the past weeks, my eyes had heavy, purple bags under them, only adding to the druggie look. My uniform didn't feel comfortable; the jacket covered up how loosely the collared shirt hung off my shoulders, and I actually needed to borrow one of Yukio's belts to keep the slacks up. I knew I hadn't eaten much more than Amaimon's candy in weeks but my stomach churned at the thought of real food; that Ukobach hadn't made anything was fortunate, as I wouldn't have to risk insulting him by not eating.

The dorm was dark and empty as I made my way down the stairs and to the front door, the only door with a keyhole. Cram class didn't start until after normal classes had ended but I had woken up late for it anyway, had forgotten to set the alarm, forgotten the need to set an alarm. Food was a far-off thought, however, and I ended up outside the door of the cram school classroom, now the second door on the left, right on time.

The doors were heavy and old but relatively easy to open for someone like me. I used more force than necessary and the doors slammed open, revealing a half full classroom just as the longer hand of the clock on the wall reached the twelve.

Upon seeing the many unfamiliar faces as well as the teacher-that-was-not-Yukio at the front of the room, my mood worsened considerably. If there was some type of meter or gauge showing my mood, it would be tickering dangerously between _extremely cranky_ and _dangerously pissed._ And it certainly didn't help that every little sound, from the slight creak of the door to the ear-piercing chatter of the students, seemed to ricochet off the interior of my head like a bullet.

The room fell silent as they all noticed me, even the familiar students like Shiemi and Bon too stunned to speak. My footsteps were loud in the silence as I made my way to an empty row of chairs, ignoring the wide eyed, gaping faces. It's not like they didn't know I was back; I also didn't want to blow up in their faces on the first day back, and with the irritation I couldn't shake I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't. Instead I sat in my purposely secluded seat, resting my head in my hand so I could surreptitiously rub my temple, while the teacher began his lesson and the bewildered stares all turned away from me. The pounding in my head refused to grant me relief. I imagined two tiny golems playing ping pong in my head badly, the ball bouncing from side to side and top to bottom as the animal-like creatures fought and did the same. Soon I gave up on the attempt to assuage the pain and kicked my seat back until it hit the desk behind me, resolving to tune out all noise for the duration of the lecture.

* * *

"Rin, wake up."

Why would I wake up? I wasn't asleep to begin with.

And it was warm, too, finally. Usually it's cold on the floor. I wanted to conserve the temperature.

Besides, if I woke up, I would have to deal with the demons.

If I didn't wake up, then I wouldn't have to deal with them. They wouldn't be able to do anything to me.

Someone shook my shoulder gently, and though the touch felt strangely pleasant I shifted away, determined to remain in the land of dreams for as long as I could.

"_Rin_, what are you doing? Wake up!" I moaned in refusal.

Warmth surrounded me like a blanket, a cocoon around this indescribably _safe_ feeling. It felt…like home. Like how everything was before this whole mess started, when I would wake up back in the room shared with Yukio back at the church. In a few minutes Dad would come wake me up, threatening to let me starve if I slept all day, and then I would argue with Matsuda over who would cook breakfast, and I would always win because my food always tasted better. Then Yukio, who always woke up earlier than me, would come eat, his head always stuck in a book when we would let him, but he always made sure to say good morning to everyone and thank me for the food, saying it's my only useful skill…

Nothing was hurting, and even that annoying buzzing feeling was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of peace and stability. I was _comfortable,_ and screw anyone that was trying to take that away from me.

I froze, startled out of my half-aware state. That buzzing sound, the pounding headache, they were gone!

My eyes flew open to meet my twin's, his teal irises an off-shade mirror image of mine. We stayed like that for a moment, with him leaning over me slightly, his hand gently but firmly gripping my upper arm, both of us just staring into the other's eyes. He had a slightly baffled look on his face, as if, now that he'd gotten me to wake up, he didn't know what to do next.

The annoying sound and headache were gone but in its place was an almost unnatural awareness of something disconnected from my own body. A foreign entity was taking residence in my skin, not malicious but disconcertingly curious. I could feel my own heartbeat driving the demon blood through my veins and also a second note, not as strong as mine but still insistent in nature, pounding half a beat off of my own. It came from deep inside me and encompassed my whole body, and there was no way I could dismiss it as my imagination.

_throb_

Then I realized that I was actually in the cram school classroom and had no idea why Yukio was even there, so I jumped away from him, tipping over the already precariously balanced chair.

"Ah! Rin! Are you okay?" Shiemi, who had lingered in the room after the other students had left to see the interaction of the two brothers, asked worriedly. She rushed over to hover, not sure what she could do to help.

"I'm sure he's just tired, Shiemi. You shouldn't worry," Yukio reassured with that impeccable smile of his.

"Ah, okay then." The blond girl still looked uncertain but left us alone anyway, turning back twice on her way out to make sure we were still alive. I thought her caring and motherly attitude was kind of cute, but Yukio seemed almost relieved when she was gone.

"_Are_ you okay?" my little brother asked. I hadn't moved from my spot on the floor. The fallen chair rested between us, but he made no move to reach out to me again.

"Yeah, sorry, I just thought…"

"You thought it wasn't me." It wasn't a question.

"What?" My mind scrambled, and I let myself slump farther into the floor as I tried to puzzle through his words. Yukio would always be the smarter of us, however.

"Satan took my form while you were in Gehenna." He sounded completely certain, as if he had been there himself. "It is understandable that you would hesitate to trust someone that looks like me."

Yukio was already taller than me, a fact that I would forever gripe about (It wasn't fair! If he got the brains, then I should at least get the body) but from that spot, with my butt firmly planted on the ground and him standing straight, he towered above me in a way I was unused to. It was almost menacing, the way he held himself over me, a stance that exuded confidence and power, but I knew better. It was the tilt of his head and the slight crinkle of otherwise smooth skin in between his eyebrows that betrayed his true feelings…and he was actually worried.

_Once a scaredy cat, always a scaredy cat._

Yukio was a busy person. So busy that he hadn't had time to even welcome me back, if he even wanted to…but at the moment, I was the only thing holding his attention.

And suddenly I realized that I never wanted it any different. I always wanted his attention on me, those incorruptible eyes directed towards me, only me, and no one else. We hadn't been very close as brothers, especially since I became a demon, but I wanted that to change. I wanted him to trust me as much as I trusted him, and I did trust him, even though he lied to me for years and told me I should die. Even though someone with his same face had put me through absolute hell for weeks before, because it was Yukio. Because, no matter what he does, I will never be able to forget his face as a little kid, covered with dirt and blood and snot and tears but still complemented with a smile. And I knew for sure that the person standing before me was the real thing, just as I knew for sure that the second beat, the shadow presence within me, was also him.

I looked up at him- nearly having to crane my neck, to my annoyance- and reached out a hand, asking him to help me up.

_throb_

I felt the heat first, a thousand times more conspicuous than the comparatively weak warmth I'd felt when waking. It rushed through me, this heat, filling me up and leaving a tingling sensation in my stomach and extremities, most prominently in the hand within his grasp. In fact, the slight but certain contact of his fingers to my palm seemed to be the source of the wave, flowing from that discrete point and into us both, leaving in its wake a rising blush in my ears.

If this were a shoujo manga, we would somehow be suddenly surrounded with sparkling flowers and the words _doki doki _everywhere. Not that I read those kinds of manga.

His clear turquoise eyes widened in shock; if I was right-and judging by his reaction and the faint flush of on his neck, I was- he was feeling the same thing I was.

I smiled at him and pulled myself to my feet, threatening to pull him down by his arm until he matched the force of my weight. Once on my feet I made no move to disjoin our hands, and neither did he.

Our hands were so similar, nearly the same size. Our nails were all cut to the quick, though mine grew out inhumanly fast in sharp claws whenever I lost control. Callouses roughened our skin as well, making the contact between us strangely satisfying in texture.

"You can feel it too, right?" I stepped over the chair and comfortably into his personal space. "This…thing." I gestured vaguely to visualize my eloquent explanation before bringing my free hand to the center of his chest, where I felt that intangible feeling the strongest. Four of my fingers pressed lightly into his thin uniform shirt. I could feel his heartbeat under my fingers and, sure enough, it matched the phantom beat I could feel in my own body.

My eyes never left his and I swallowed drily, wishing I had felt the need to drink something beforehand. I could feel I wasn't wrong, instinctually, but then again, historically, my instinct wasn't the most reliable sense to utilize.

A mixture of relief and satisfaction came to me as I felt his heart rate increase beyond my own. His hand, a bit shakily, came up to brush against mine, still poised over his chest. It then traveled to my own chest in the same manner. The warmth of his fingers seeped through my clothes, and no doubt he could feel my pulse racing to match his.

"I thought I was crazy," he confessed. "It's how I knew Mephisto wasn't lying."

And then he smiled, his slightly pointed canines somehow accentuating his features, and such a reaction was so rare and unexpected that I couldn't help but smile back.

"Rin, let's go back." He couldn't say home, because home was back in a little house beside the old church, but it was as close as we were going to get. We left together, not losing the connection of our clasped hands even when he had to lock the door.

"You don't have another mission?" He'd been called out as soon as our case had been reviewed by the Grigori-as the son of Satan, apparently even being kidnapped can be made out to be my fault-and presumably hadn't made it back until school this morning. Even he looked tired out, though he was most likely accustomed to long hours like these.

He shook his head in answer. "We're short staffed, but that was the last for at least a few days."

* * *

"Would ya like t' buya vowel?"

The worst possible replacement for Vanna White stood before me dressed in heeled knee-high boots, fishnet stockings, what could be considered shorts, and nothing more than a bikini top.

She was curvaceous, her full pouty lips and expressive fiery locks only adding to the first impression one got from her impressive bust size; I wouldn't be deceived, though: this was _not_ a woman. Sometimes I doubted if she was even human.

She was a person of the female variety, and as ruthless as they come. Masculinity shook in fear and withered away in her presence. She would not hesitate to neuter a man that got too close to her; she would most likely enjoy the act and take some _trophies_ to remember the newly-made eunuch by.

So when Shura Kiragakure looked happy, anyone in the vicinity that had a brain should probably be very, very afraid. And while it was debatable whether I did, in fact, have a brain (It's not like I choose to be stupid, I swear), even I didn't want to end up on her bad side. I still had the scar on my shoulder from her sword. Fuck male pride and all that bullshit; Shura was fucking scary when she was pissed, and even more so when in a good mood.

"What're you gonna charge me?" I'd spent the last five minutes trying to guess what 'surprise' she had for me. Surprises were good, like, for parties and birthday presents, but with her?

"Ahh, I give up! Useless!" Toned arms crossed over her chest, unfortunately covering the nipples exposing themselves in the chilled air of the training room. Domineering women weren't really my type, but damn…

"Tell me already!" I demanded. She had called me in there supposedly to train but hadn't shown the slightest inclination to do so. I actually had other things to do besides wasting my time there, like studying…yeah, that's a lie. She was just frustrating, and it didn't help that the second Yukio had left me to her, that stupid, annoying, freaky, crawling, nails-on-a-chalkboard feeling came back as if it had never left. It wasn't as bad, though, when I wasn't thinking about it, which was pretty hard to do.

She turned her head to the side petulantly and looked at my out of the corner of her eye.

"Not gonna!" I growled in warning before lunging at her, intending to pull her hair out until she told me.

She jumped away with a sharp grin like she'd been expecting the move.

"I'll tell if yer can catch me!" Her voice echoed behind her as she fled out the door and through the hall.

"Shit!" I was after her in a second, determined not to lose.

Through the doorway, down the hall, passing the first and second doors before entering the third passage it branched off into, I ran after her, always a few precious seconds behind her. The next corridor had several similar branches and again we raced through the third in succession.

The training room was one of the closest rooms to the surface, built into an enormous underground system. There were a few rooms similar to it, easy to access from the surface and even from the cram classrooms, but the straightforward paths soon degenerated into something mazelike, characteristic of the one in charge of the school itself.

A few turns later had me at the precipice of a different kind of doorway. The frame was and obnoxious pink and wooden, splintering at the seams. Beyond it wasn't the coveted, gothic-textured walls that had preceded it but pure, unworked tunnels, made somewhat safe only by the sparse wooden posts set to hold up the heavy, rocky stone above. Breaching the entryway, I caught sight of the tail end of her hair before it disappeared around the next corner.

I grinned; Shura was playing dangerously, taking this game of tag outside the demon barrier around the school.

At first there were a few lanterns placed intermittently along the walls, but the amount tapered off into none. Darkness was like daylight to me, though it was a testament to Shura's inhuman abilities that she was able to travel as well as she did.

My body was stiff but the exertion felt good, even with the frigid air freezing up my lungs. Somehow this was exactly what I needed; I felt my muscles loosening up, remembering the pull and strain I needed to move, to fight.

The tunnels were built to escape from the school undetected if for some reason the magical keys we were given stopped working, but they were also built with many side passages to confuse anyone not familiar with it. Namely, me.

If I lost sight of Shura for a second, I could end up stuck down there forever.

And then I reached the end of the central tunnel and turned, expecting to see the tip of her hair, the bottom of her shoe, rounding the next corner, only to be met with nothing.

It was a large expanse, dimly lit by a single lantern hanging by the entrance, and it was completely empty. I slowed to a cautious tread, wary as I crossed the boundary into the cavernous maw.

Two steps in I felt the cold rush of someone rushing behind me, and I turned on my toes, hoping to catch Shura in the middle of her fun. My fingers passed through empty air, though, and the only reward for my effort was a heartless chuckle from another part of the room.

Rushing through the expanse, I finally caught sight of her, legs crossed, sitting on an outcropping of rock. She slid off and jumped left, and I tried to follow her motion, lunging to where her trajectory should have taken her, unable to flee with her feet not on the ground. I noticed but didn't realize the significance of her arm raising, reaching behind her, until, a split second before my fingers closed around her neck, she lifted herself back using a piece of rock jutting out of the wall as leverage. I was unable to stop myself and I fell forward, gasping as the wind was knocked out of my stomach by something long and hard sticking out of the ground.

"_Fuuuuck!" _I wheezed out, rolling to the floor on my side to relieve the pressure.

"Oh my god," Shura leaned against the wall, holding her stomach as she laughed at me. She slid down to the floor, unable to hold in her laughter, unable to breathe as a result.

"Holy shit, my stomach hurts," she said once she could take in air again. She opened her eyes, full of mirth, and looked at me. "Not as much as yers, I bet!"

I sat up, glaring at her. She was finally stationary but I got the idea that the game was over, and I'd lost, though she probably wouldn't be too harsh in dishing out punishments because I'd already humiliated myself in front of her.

"What the fuck…" I complained without much anger.

I noticed the thing I had fallen on.

"What the fuck?" I said again. What was something like _that_ doing down there?

Spotless steel glinted, reflecting the flames a few meters away. It was buried over half a foot into a big mound of earth extending from the ground, but the curve of the metal was obvious.

"Carnwenhau," I breathed. I shifted to my knees before the blade.

Shura visibly started, violet eyes wide before narrowing suspiciously.

"Most people would think of Excalibur when they see a sword in the ground. Especially since Carnwenhau is supposed to be a European dagger."

My gaze fell to the point where blade ended and earth began. I didn't answer the implied question. She scowled.

"Welp," she leaned forward from her place on the floor with a grin, the bad atmosphere forgotten. "Since yer so goddamn funny, this is yer present. Ya like?"

I gaped at her, shocked. "Really?"

"He he." She crawled forward, only the sword between me and her dangerous grin. "Ya gotta get it from the stone first," she challenged.

My right hand was already wrapped around the handle before I stopped myself.

"This isn't gonna blow up on me when I pull it out, right?" I asked suspiciously. "The ceiling isn't going to cave in, and giant monkeys aren't going to chase me outta here?"

"What, yer scared?" She leaned forward on her elbow, her free hand tauntingly waving a can of beer she'd appropriated from god knows where.

I grit my teeth and focused on the blade, determined. With my strength, one hand should be enough, but I grasped the handle with my other hand, just in case.

My fingers clenched and I pulled with all the strength I had, expected a great amount of resistance. Instead I lost balance and fell backwards; the katana came out as easily as if it'd been stuck in butter.

"Ha!" Shura looked surprised, her mouth forming an 'o' shape before reverted back to the grin.

When I opened my mouth to retort, I choked instead, accidentally inhaling a large amount of dust that hadn't been there a minute before. The walls groaned, no longer being able to comfortably hold their own weight.

I glared at Shura. "I thought you said the ceiling wasn't going to cave in!"

"I didn't say that!" She grabbed me, lifting me to my feet to begin dragging me towards the exit. The once-smooth cut stone of the entryway trembled suddenly and collapsed on itself, blocking the path just before we reached it.

"Whoops!"


End file.
